Ready for It? Not when it’s unworthy of Taylor Swift’s talents: Menon

For years, many of her songs have landed as cultural riddles, fortune cookies with baked-in ambiguous messages in which she’s either recasting narratives or settling scores: Is that lyric about Harry Styles? Is “Bad Blood” a shot at Katy Perry?

Swift’s music is so personal, so self-referential, it’s as if nothing else exists. In the Swiftian Universe, there is just one superstar living on one supersized planet. Everyone else is cast in the role of extra and subject to a gravitational force controlled exclusively by Swift.

She writes songs about her experiences in this faraway land and, more importantly, about how those experiences are misconstrued back on Earth. This closed-circuit cosmos allows her fans to feel like they are getting the straight dope on the crooked trajectory upon which Swift is often superimposed by a treacherous media that built her up and is now allegedly trying to tear her down.

In the Swiftian Universe, victimhood is the oxygen.

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And beyond the analysis, there is no shortage of conspiracy theories.

This was clear at midnight on Friday, when her new video “. . . Ready for It?” dropped and, based on the internet meltdown, the response was a resounding “WTF.” As half the world scoured newly released JFK files, the other half scrutinized Swift’s sci-fi gambit while trying to understand what it all means.

To which I will add my own theory: Taylor Swift is having an identity crisis.

And if she doesn’t sort herself out, her career will suffer.

With a bigger budget than some indie films, “. . . Ready for It?” plays as a dystopian parable. Swift is an artificial life form. Scratch that. She is two artificial life forms: 1. A black-hooded robot with devious intentions who may or may not symbolize the media’s sinister portrayal of the singer and, 2. A cyborg in a flesh-coloured body suit who is trapped in a glass prison, which may or may not be a metaphor for the isolating torture Swift has endured in recent years as her music has attracted less attention than her celebrity feuds or aborted romances.

In the video for ". . . Ready for It?" Taylor Swift is a black-hooded robot with devious intentions and a cyborg in a flesh-coloured body suit who is trapped in a glass prison, writes Vinay Menon (YOUTUBE)

But as the analysis ratcheted up on Friday — we were told the 3:30-minute video contained visual and stylistic odes to Blade Runner, Ghost in the Shell, Final Fantasy, Star Wars, Transformers, Game of Thrones, Ex Machina, Terminator, Tron — one observation was notably absent.

Video aside, the song is pure dreck.

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By the high standards Swift once set for herself, “. . . Ready for It?” suggests she might actually be turning into a robot. And one that is tone-deaf. With the repeated three-beat of opening distortion, which segues into a regrettable hybrid of pop-rap, this is not a strong showcase for her gifts as both a songwriter and performer.

You know that ridiculous rap song that’s used as a do not drink-and-drive jingle in these parts? That song is catchier.

Rather than getting stuck in your head, “. . . Ready for It?” infiltrates one ear and flies out the other at supersonic speed. It feels forced, synthetic, insipid — this is music as anesthesia, music as cynical slop.

It doesn’t help that the lyrics — “Me, I was a robber first time that he saw me / Stealing hearts and running off and never saying sorry” — are incongruous with the futuristic imagery that pits Taylor in existential battle against Taylor.

The black-hooded Taylor, with the replicant flicker in her eye and the swaggering strides, wants to telegraph menace. The naked cyborg Taylor, with her defiant posturing and levitating and orb-controlling powers, wants to project strength.

But both sound like bored teens warbling inanities in a mall food court.

Coincidentally, a day before “. . . Ready for It?” there was real-life news from the artificial intelligence front: Saudi Arabia became the first nation to grant citizenship to a robot. That machine, named Sophia, participated in a Q&A on Wednesday as part of the Future Investment Initiative. While none of what she said concerns the music industry, the fact Sophia sounded more lifelike than Swift should trouble anyone who once viewed the singer as the voice of her generation.

As she gets older, Swift is getting less realistic.

Look, I don’t want any trouble with the Swifties, a fan base that operates with Daesh-grade devotion and vengeance. But in advance of their goddess’s new album, Reputation, which arrives on Nov. 10, there are now two songs/videos (“Look What You Made Me Do” is the other) that seem unworthy of Swift’s talent.

It’s almost as if she is the one who is obsessed with, yes, her reputation and this inability to move on from past scraps is warping her creativity. Instead of recasting narratives or settling scores, she is now stuck in narcissistic quicksand. Instead of winking ironically at a misunderstood image, she is reinforcing that image by refusing to exit the Swiftian Universe and engage with new subject matter.

This is artistic growth blunted by solipsism.

In a recent meme, Swift says “the old Taylor” can’t come to the phone because she is dead. As it turns out, this is another preprogrammed lie.

The old Taylor can’t come to the phone because she’s too busy talking to herself.